


$400K (iss)

by futureboy (PokeRowan)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Extra Life 2017, F/M, First Kiss, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Platonic Kissing, Stretch Goals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 22:53:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12691851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PokeRowan/pseuds/futureboy
Summary: At $400,000 donations, Jeremy promises he'll onscreen kiss as many people in Achievement Hunter as possible. There's one person in particular he's a little scared to do it with, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [RPF disclaimer: Written according to guidelines set by RT employees (to the best of my knowledge). This is a fictional series of events using characters inspired by real people.]
> 
> Don't forget to check out the stream! For the kids! ♥

They hit four hundred thousand dollars within a couple of _hours_ , and Jeremy’s stomach immediately drops through the floor.

“You know what that means!” yells Jack, over the cheering and the chiming of alarms. “Who’re you gonna go with first, Jeremy?”

“Oh, I don’t know--”

“Jack, _please,_  he doesn’t get to choose,” Michael interjects.

“Yeah,” says Lindsay, and pats the beanbag space in-between her seat and her husband’s. “C’mere, Jeremy, we’ll take care of you.”

Jeremy has already thrown back some alcohol, but honestly, they’re not that far into the night. This is somehow much, much worse. If not for the deal he struck up for the stretch goal, but for the fact that most of the people involved in his stretch goal reward are still present, which means he really _does_ have to go through with it now.

He’s not in the seat for more than two seconds before Michael crows, “pucker up, baby!” and plants a brief, but hard kiss on him. There’s no time to recover. When Michael draws back, his hand still rough against Jeremy’s beard and his glasses smudged to shit, Lindsay reaches around to tilt his face the other direction and kisses him straight away.

There’s cheering. His face is burning.

“It’s a Dooley sandwich.”

“Yeah, Jeremy, now you’ve kissed four people.”

“Who’s the fourth?” Jack asks, “I know there was--”

“The Joneses, Matt, and my high school sweetheart,” Jeremy says, counting them off on his fingers. “I have to say, I’m not a big kisser.”

“You just made a hundred per cent increase,” Michael points out, “you should be sitting like a _pimp_ , now, Lil J.”

Jeremy stretches his arms over the back of the beanbag, around the couple’s shoulders, and they lean their heads against his shoulders. For good measure, Michael puts a hand on Jeremy’s pecs, posing for the cameras..

“You look like Gwyneth Paltrow in Iron Man,” Kent points out.

“That’s the point, dumbass. Hey, you made yourself known, Kent,” Michael grins, “get over here and smooch Jeremy.”

There’s huge cheer from the wings. Jeremy disentangles himself from the beanbag pile and smooths out his jeans.

“Can you at least drink some water first?” Kent laughs.

“No… If I gotta taste Jones, _you_ gotta taste Jones, my friend,” Jeremy tells him. When Kent wanders over, Jeremy gives him a firm peck just shy of the lips, and shakes his good arm: “you’re a real champ, buddy, that one’s for your boy.”

“Appreciate it, man,” Kent says, stifling a laugh, and promptly retreats.

There’s a brief break for the informative video Jack and Caiti put together - at this point, Jeremy’s looking around to select his next victim. Whilst half the crew split to grab some water, he notices Geoff is staying put in one of the chairs so that he doesn’t lose his spot.

“Hey, Geoff,” he says in a low voice, sidling up to him as the cameras turn back on them.

Geoff jumps. “Oh, no you don’t,” he warns, “don’t even think about it, Jeremy.”

“Don’t be such a baby, come here--”

“Get off me!” Geoff whines, as Jeremy leans in and peppers his cheek, “ _god!_ ”

“You agreed!” he says. Geoff swats at his face, as though he’s being attacked by a swarm of bees. “God. Your beard is _super_ scratchy up there, yeesh.”

“Jeremy, I hate you.”

“I know you do, pal,” Jeremy grins, crossing Geoff off his mental list of Achievement Hunters. “Man, I gotta get some more Support Room smooches, level the playing field some. Hey, Neal, you just got here--”

And Neal, who’d been traipsing across the back of the camera set-ups, freezes in his tracks like a startled deer. “Yeah?”

“Guess which stretch goal we hit?”

“Oh,” says Neal, still looking suspicious, but somehow mixing in a twinge of disinterest. “Cool.”

“Bring it in, pal,” Jeremy says, and gives him a short kiss on the lips in the corner of the stream framing.

“That was like a married couple kiss,” Matt calls out, laughing from one of the beanbags.

“Oh yeah? What’s wrong with that?” Jeremy challenges, “you wanna do ‘awkward prom’ or something?”

Matt wheezes.

“It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

“You… You had more hair last time.”

“You had less,” Jeremy shoots back.

“I want tongue this time,” Geoff says.

Matt gets to his feet, his limbs flailing, and says, “okay,” with a little shrug. And whereas the first time they’d done this on Extra Life Jeremy had made the first move, this time, he’s the one that gets surprised. It’s a hand in the small of his back and another curled around his jaw, and _tongue_ , and Jesus Christ, this reeks of pre-planning.

He still kisses back, though.

“So, like,” he says, wiping his mouth when they part, “how much are you donating for that, Geoff?”

“It was double or nothin’. Two grand, dude.”

“Cool,” Jeremy grins.

Behind him, two things happen. He hears the granular squish of a beanbag as Matt flops directly backwards into it, obviously tuckered out from the brief action of standing up to participate; the second thing that happens is the snaking of arms around his waist.

“Uh...”

“That was more ‘awkward highschool makeout’ than ‘awkward prom’,” he hears Alfredo say, and goddamnit, he just _knows_ there’s a smirk dancing over his stupid face.

“You wanna show me how to do it properly, then?”

“Oh, we’re gonna steal the show,” Alfredo promises, and starts swaying to some imaginary music, still holding him from behind. Jack and he seem to have been striking up shady little deals with the tech crew, because sure enough, there’s a delayed start to some cheesy prom instrumental.

“You fucking planned this.”

“There’s been a lot of planning,” Alfredo admits, with a shit-eating grin. He spins him around, to the tune of several wolf-whistles and the sheer delight of Steffie -there’s quite a few cell phones pointed at them right now.

“Dip!” someone yells. (Jeremy registers distantly that they might be Lindsay.)

He’s about to ask which one of them should dip or be dipped, when Alfredo makes the decision for him. With Jeremy’s arms hooking around his neck, and Alfredo supporting all of their weight, there’s a brief moment where their breath is shared.

Alfredo smiles against his mouth, and pulls them back up to full height.

“You fuckin’ romantic,” Jeremy grins, shoving him in the shoulder.

“You love it.”

Over the mic, Jack’s announcing a cut to the next group coming through, but Jeremy can barely hear it; there’s a reason he’s not a big kisser, and it’s because he _does_ love it. It’s been easy so far. After Extra Life two years ago, he’d developed a lingering crush on Matt for about two months afterwards, and _that_ had been less than fun.

So there’s one person in particular he’s a little worried about. Pre-existing feelings are probably not a great springboard to leap from, either.


	2. Chapter 2

He’s first back on set for their second segment, and boy, they’re a destructive company. Gus is rolling around on a beanbag, apparently in quite a lot of crotch pain. Burnie seems to be completely unfazed by the whole spectacle; Jack, however, looks like he’s laughed himself into an eight-pack.

“Hey, it’s Jeremy!”

“That’s my name,” he grins, and wraps his arms around Jack from behind his chair, in a Geoff-style hug. “Caiti? Do you mind if I steal your man for a second?”

“I’m scared he won’t come back,” she pouts, trying not to laugh.

Jeremy kisses him on the cheek, and, as a reward, receives Jack laying his head on his shoulder affectionately. “Love you, Lil J.”

“Love you too, Jack Pattillo. Hey, just so you know? Your beard is _waaay_ softer than Geoff’s is.”

Jack _‘awww!’s_  and claps Jeremy on the wrist a couple of times. It’s a little early for him to be there - the previous segment hasn’t quite finished yet, so Achievement Hunter are surprisingly not behind schedule just yet - but he figures it’s a nice way to settle back into the fundraising.

“What the hell is this?” Burnie splutters, looking amused. “You’ve kissed Jack and Geoff tonight, Jeremy...?”

“Stretch goal,” he explains. “So far, I’ve got the Joneses, Matt, Neal, Kent… Jack and Geoff, too… Oh, and Alfredo. Can’t forget _that_ experience.”

“You’re gonna be sucking dick by Extra Life eighteen, you know that, right?”

Jack barks out a laugh, so Jeremy goes to perch next to Burnie instead. “You feeling left out, boss?”

“Hell, no.”

“Just… look into that camera there. Can we get focus on that camera?” Jeremy says. “Look really bored, Burnie, I’ll include you--”

Burnie looks exasperated for a brief second, and then gives in to wiping his face of any emotion. (It might be so that he can get it over with.) Whilst he’s staring blankly into the lens, with an almost serial-killer glint in his eye, Jeremy issues him a single chaste kiss to his right cheekbone.

“This is the sign for all remaining Achievement Hunters to get their asses over here,” Burnie warns, as Jack and Caiti cackle in the background, “because Jeremy is giving away all your love.”

“No, I’m not! Look,” Jeremy says, getting to his feet heavily and pointing across the set, “look, there’s Larry. Hey, Larry.”

“Yeah?”

“Come over on camera a sec. I got something for you.”

“Oh, no,” Larry says uneasily. “Is it kissies? Are you still giving out the stretch goal? You’re not gonna try to take me home after the stream, are you--?”

Jeremy doesn’t answer, but he does give him a gentle kiss on the lips, and avoids touching his hair.

“Maybe another time,” he grins.

Larry squeaks out a tiny _‘oh’_ , goes slightly pink, and meanders off set again.

“Goddamnit, Jeremy! You’re driving away the team!” Caiti admonishes him jokingly, “tone down the Larry sexing!”

“Yeah, Lil J, ixnay on the Shifty shagging,” says Gavin, and oh, Gavin’s on set now, and he’s grinning wildly.

“Why, are you here to replace him?”

“I mean… Blimey, Jeremy, give it a second. It’s not a kiss train.”

It’s a bit more of a wait before everyone else begins to arrive. Gavin takes a seat opposite Jeremy; there’s some rustly beanbag noises from behind him, too. It turns out Andy and Ashley have already headed home, so they’re crossed off his kiss list.

“Who else is here?”

“Most of The Know are just about to resurface, they’re recovering from their earlier stint,” Caiti tells him.

“And me.”

Oh, _shit_. Meg Turney is waving from the back of the audio booth - Jeremy doesn’t know how long she’s been lurking there, but kissing Michael and Lindsay had been easier when both were in on it. Now he had to kiss Gavin in front of his goddamn girlfriend.

“I heard about your stretch goal!” she calls out. “Have you kissed him yet, Gav?”

Well… That was alright then. Huh.

“Nope,” Gavin yells back.

“What?! But--” she says, bustling onto the set with surprising determination, “--but congratulations are in order! We did it, we got to four hundred--”

“ _Turney_. We’re at _six_ hundred thousand now.”

“Still,” she says, and sweeps down, and plants on right on Jeremy’s lips.

Gavin screeches.

“Oi! I can’t be bloody shown up by my own gir--”

“Well, you do it then,” she retorts, “you had plenty of time.”

It’s quite nice to have people fighting over him, and it’s almost even nicer when Gavin scrambles to reach his face. In a flurry of facial scruff and skinny limbs, they tumble out of sight of the main cameras and fall behind the couch. There’s a shout for the handheld cameras to follow them, but Jeremy can barely hear it, not over the cheering and Meg’s squealing and Gavin’s nose digging into his cheek, and Gavin’s tongue running over his teeth (kind of weird, but he almost likes it, and makes a note to examine that later). He can’t tell where Gav’s hands and his hands come apart anymore.

After several seconds of vicious, competitive kissing, Gavin decides it’s time to resurface. Jeremy claws his way up the backrest of the seating, and he’s damn well aware of how it looks - Gavin’s hair is sticking up at funny angles, their lips are swollen, and both of them are very, very breathless.

“You’re welcome,” says Meg, cheerfully, and leaves again.

“Good lord,” Jeremy says, gazing at Gavin. “Can I steal you?”

“ _Ab_ solutely not.”

“That’s fair.”

More people are arriving now, whether they’ve been watching in the wings - Jeremy spots Steffie, who’s still on his list - or if they’ve just re-appeared after several hours, like Ryan.

Ryan doesn’t know they hit the stretch goal.

“What the fuck happened here?” he asks, gesticulating to the carnage and the post-kiss floored couple, and sounding mildly disturbed.

“I gotta tell you off-mic,” Jeremy says seriously. “It’s serious business.”

“Uhhh...”

“ _Ryan_. When have I _ever_ wronged you?”

“Several times!” Ryan protests, but leans down to let Jeremy whisper in his ear anyway.

Jeremy gives him the tiniest smooch, just above where his beard meets his bare skin.

“He conceded!” he cheers, and everyone claps and laughs, and Ryan, bless him, goes incredibly pink.

“I hate you,” he says, taking a heavy seat and playing with his hands absently. Quite a few donations start coming in - it’s no surprise. _Everyone_ wants to see a giant man get flustered by a kiss.

“No, you don’t… I’m adorable.”

“Who else have you got left?” Caiti asks, over the commotion.

“Steffie and Trevor are the only ones left. Hey, Steffie, I’m coming over - has anyone even seen Trevor yet?”

“I think he’s coming over now,” Gavin says. “He said a few minutes ago he was driving with Matt, they went to get food or sommat.”

“Sweet,” says Jeremy, his heart hammering in his chest, “okay, Steffie, let’s do this.”

“You’re not gonna Gavin me, are you?” she says, shuffling on set awkwardly and playing with the hem of her cardigan. Jeremy’s so glad that he’s friends with someone so sweet - and, more importantly right now, shorter than him.

“Nah,” he grins, and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, before leaning in to kiss her. She has to go up on tiptoes slightly. It’s very endearing.

The focus soon shifts from them as Geoff and Michael reappear. Steffie takes his mic away from his and discreetly holds it behind her back: “do you know what you’re doing?”

“With what?”

“Trevor,” she says gently, “he’s gonna be here any second.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he says, his pulse roaring through his shaking hands, “it’s just a kiss.”

Steffie looks at him over the rim of her glasses. They’re slightly smeared from where Jeremy’s brow brushed over the lenses. “I don’t think it will be to him,” she says.

Jeremy’s stomach bypasses the floor, and shoots straight down into the centre of the Earth.

“...What?”

His whisper is interrupted by his cell phone, vibrating in his back pocket.

It’s Trevor.

“Hey, man,” he says shakily, picking up, “are you pulling up yet?”

“Yeah, I just pulled up outside.”

“So Steffie just told me something interesting--”

“--God, I’ll kill her,” Trevor says bluntly, and Jeremy lets a wobbly little giggle escape.

“How’d you wanna do this? You’ll be the fourteenth person tonight, I wanna make it count.”

“Like, on a scale of one to ten,” says Trevor, “where one is ‘ _your estranged great aunt says you’ve gotten so tall',_  and ten is with tongue and passion, where’d you wanna be?”

He clears his throat. “Um. Eleven.”

“Oh,” says Trevor, in a much higher register than usual, “I-I see. Well, I’m coming in through the bay doors right now, so...”

“I’ll be there,” Jeremy murmurs, and hangs up.

Steffie gives him a look.

“...I need a camera to follow me.”

“Done,” she says, waving one of the crew over, “ _Jack!_ We’ve got the final stretch goal kiss!”

The mobile camera follows him through the set, and he can feel a trail of curious people following him close behind. There are distant voices - Matt, perhaps, with _what number did he say?_ , and the carefully-level tones of Trevor responding, _well, it’s lower than I hoped it would be_.

Jeremy’s so fucked.

He rushes over to the bay doors, past the paintball setup, and sees Trevor and Matt doing the same damn thing.

“Jeremy,” Trevor breathes. His breath is tangible in the November air.

Steffie gives Jeremy a warranted shove.

That’s all he needs - in three short strides, he’s up in Trevor’s personal space, fisting both of his hands in the collar of the man’s t-shirt and bringing his washed-out, petrified face down towards him. Trevor responds _instantly_ , pressing cold hands against Jeremy’s neck and slipping warm tongue between his lips. It tingles. Fuck, his knees are weak.

“Shit,” Matt curses, and leaps back.

“ _Shiiiiiit_ ,” whines Gavin loudly, from somewhere on set, “Trevor beat me!”

And then Trevor bites down softly on his bottom lip, and Jeremy really can’t hear anything except their breathing and their teeth clacking together occasionally and the roar, roar, roar of blood rushing through his ears.

“You should’ve said,” he whispers urgently, breaking them apart, “why didn’t you _say_ anything--?”

“I mean, I’m technically your boss,” Trevor breathes. He’s almost drowned out by the crowing, and the donation alarms, and the chattering.

“You  _fuck_.”

“Later.”

“I did promise Larry.”

“Well, un-promise him,” says Trevor.

“That’s reasonable.”

“I know.”

Jeremy almost wants to kiss him again, but he knows that would cause a ridiculous uproar. The evening’s not about him, and it’s not about Trevor. It’s not about the way that Trevor’s eyes are wide, pupils dilating and contracting and totally unfocused on anything that isn’t Jeremy.

They’re in front of a _lot_ of people, so Jeremy releases his shirt and smooths it back down.

They can definitely play it off as a big finish, or a donation ploy. Nobody but Steffie or Matt would ever know. Gavin would be upset he lost his imaginary competition; Geoff would be grossed out somewhat; Jack and Caiti would be pleased that they caused such a scene.

(They don’t hold hands, or even interact much out of the ordinary. Not for the rest of the stream. But Jeremy doesn’t miss the way that Matt goes home later and leave Trevor to carpool with him, and he’s very, _very_ grateful that it went unspoken.)

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on my [main blog](futureboy.tumblr.com) or my [fic blog](futureboy-ao3.tumblr.com)!


End file.
